Finding Cassey
by EmClem
Summary: The story of an assistant. After the daleks killed the doctor Cassey doesn't know what to do until Captain Jack turns up on her doorstep and changes her life forever.
1. Chapter 1

_Story based on doctor who. A lot will be explained in 2nd chapter so please R&R!_

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Cathy's day to day life was simple

Any other adjective relevant to it would have been offensive. She was a shelf stacker. Every morning she got up at 7 o'clock and had cereal for breakfast and every night she had a mug of hot chocolate and went to bed at 10 o'clock.

Some times she did sit down and wonder why she was doing it to herself. She hated it – her mundane existence – an existence that used to be full of excitement, spontaneity, mind-boggling thoughts and… fun. Now, the only things to excite her was if some well known flour brand changed its packaging and the only things she had to think about were the neatness and order of the shelves in the supermarket down the road that said it was open 24 hours but wasn't.

It was while, in fact, she was pondering whether nappies should be ordered by size or by brand that an extremely loud and, frankly, terrifying scream issued from the bathroom. Cathy smiled. It amused her how much she enjoyed living with Sam. She was by far the loudest, most dramatic and crude 21st century stereotypical teenager that Cathy had ever met and, of course, she would not be Sam if she was not terrified of spiders. Mrs Layland, the rather strange old woman that lived in the flat below them, often knocked on the door (she didn't believe in door bells) to ask them if everything was alright as she had just heard the most awful scream coming from their flat and to be assured that it was just youthful anti-social behaviour and not, in any way shape or form, a Jack the ripper wannabe. Mrs Layland would then take great pleasure in reassuring them that she used to be a member of the neighbourhood watch before getting the door shut on her. Even though Cathy had never been able to take her seriously since watching Hot Fuzz she liked old Mrs Layland with her odd fashions and superstitions. The lady had an air about her that suggested that she knew a lot more than anyone else ever would and it reminded Cathy of someone who, though she tried to kid herself otherwise, she liked to be reminded of.

But now he was gone and Cathy had a roommate to save from an arachnid. She smiled again and went to get the duster while Sam answered the door to, undoubtedly, Mrs Layland.

It wasn't Mrs Layland at the door. The voice that answered Sam's created a strange sort of whooshing sensation inside Cathy's head that made her feel really awake and then really tired in the space of about a fifth of a second. She shut the door to the bathroom behind her and stood there eye to eye with Sam's little spider franticly searching for some form of escape and, failing that, plan in general. The person at the door wanted to speak to her, she could hear Sam shouting for her to come, but she didn't want to speak to them.

Cathy forced herself to take a deep breath. It was just a mistake, probably just the landlord come to complain yet again about their overflowing bins. But the landlord didn't have an American accent, nor did the landlord greet people with,

'Captain Jack Harkness'


	2. Chapter 2

Cathy's life had almst been simple

Cathy's life had almost been simple. It would have been perfectly simple if it had not been for that thing that Cathy thought she had left at the side of a country road somewhere in Cumbria. She tried not to think about it most of the time but sometimes she couldn't help it; it had been her life and she had walked away from it. It had been raining because, of course, it always rains when you're upset. However, Cathy had been more than upset, she had been borderline hysterical and knew it. The kind paramedics that had picked her up at about 9pm, after being called out by the old lady who resided in the cottage she had found, knew it as well. She couldn't remember any of their names but she could remember them asking her her name repeatedly but she couldn't remember telling them it.

Once they got to the hospital it became apparent that she had told them that her name was Cassey – her real name - as everybody was calling her that. Then they had started to ask questions. Cathy supposed that they were the sort of questions you would ask any woman that had walked off the moors hysterical and bashed about but at the time they had seemed petty, stupid and prying. She knew they thought she was mad but it didn't mean she was going to answer their questions.

'What do you last remember, Cassey?'

'Have you been hurt by someone, Cassey?'

'Do you have any family, Cassey?'

Then different people came and they started to ask more difficult questions.

One day she woke up and had what some people would call her 'mojo' and others her 'spark' back. That was the day that he came, the person she had been waiting for, and asked her probably the most difficult question so far and probably the only question that she couldn't answer;

'Where did you leave the TARDIS, Cassey?'

Cassey had gotten up and ran. Even now she couldn't remember anybody pursuing her but she could remember running and running and running until the adrenaline ran out and she had to catch a bus with a fiver she found outside a McDonalds.

That had been about 18 months ago. Cathy had thought that he would have caught up with her sooner and so had presumed herself safe. Finally.

But now here he was, Captain Jack Harkness, standing just inside her front door, chatting to her roommate about hair dye and appearing to admire her decorating. Cathy smiled. She would talk to him, let him know how she felt and shut the door on him. Simple.

So Cathy opened the bathroom door, stepped into the hallway, made eye contact, smiled and said,

'Hello, Jack, nice to see you again. I hope you had a good journey.' It was more of a question than a statement.

'Yes, I did,' he said, 'but I had some trouble finding you. You're not in the phone book.' Again, it was almost a question.

'I didn't feel the need,' replied Cathy.

It was then that Sam invited him in for a cup of tea and Cathy's plans were thrown out the window. It also meant that small talk became more than necessary.

'So… what have you been doing?' asked Cathy once they were sitting in the living room, Cathy opposite Jack, Jack next to Sam, Sam pretending to watch TV.

'Torchwood,' replied Jack.

'Still?'

'Yeah.'

'Oh.'

'You?'

'ASDA.'

'Oh… right.'

There was a moment of silence during which Cathy pretended to be interested in an advert for Eastenders and Jack ate a biscuit.

'So is it fun?'

'Hm?'

'ASDA.'

'Oh. Erm… yeah. Got a new brand of gin arriving next week.'

'Huh. Cool.'

Another moment of silence, this one was longer than the first and slightly less comfortable as Sam had switched of the TV and was now watching them instead. Luckily, it was prematurely interrupted by a knock at the door followed by Sam leaving the room to reassure Mrs Layland that they were both still alive.

'Listen, Cassey,' said Jack leaning forwards with a hint of urgency in his voice, 'I need to talk to you somewhere in private, it's-'

'No, you don't, Jack,' interrupted Cathy, standing up, 'what you do need to do is to leave. Now.'

'You don't understand, I need your help,' Jack stood up now, 'you and the TARDIS,' he took hold of both her hands, 'You don't have to run away anymore, I've found you and now I'm going to help you.'

'Jack,' she said, somehow managing to manoeuvre it to feel like she was holding his hands instead, 'I don't want your help and I don't want to help you. Now please leave, I don't want you in my life.'

'Cas,' said Jack, breaking free of her grasp almost exasperatedly leaving Cassey momentarily shocked by both the loss of contact and the old nickname, 'I cannot believe that after all that you have lived through, you are calling this a life!'

'Jack, I have worked hard for this 'life' and you can't just expect me to drop it completely.'

'Well, you managed it before.'

'I didn't have choice!'

'Yes you did. And you know what, 'Cathy'? You chose the wrong one.'

They both stood there fuming for a while, not realising how loud their discussion had become.

'This isn't over, Cassey,' said Jack, 'you've got a decision to make and I am going to make sure you make the right one this time – the one that I know you want to make as well.'

Then he left. Cathy sat on the floor for a while not really thinking anything.

'I'm sorry, Cath,' said Sam, coming into the room to sit next to her, 'was he an old boyfriend or something?'

Cathy nodded dimly.

'Well, next time he comes round I won't let him in, don't worry.'

A knock at the door made them both look up.

'I'll get it,' said Cathy, standing up.

'But what if-'

'It won't be him, don't worry.'

And she was right. It was Mrs Layland looking rather flustered and out of breath.

'Look out of the window, Cathy.'

'What?'

'Just go and look out of the window, trust me, it's come for you.'

A bemused Sam had already gone to look out of the kitchen window and, upon seeing nothing of any particular importance, came and relived Cathy from Mrs Layland.

'There's nothing there, Cath, the old lady's seeing things.'

But there was something there. Something that made her heart beat really fast and her mind go whoosh again. Something that was definitely not at the side of a country road somewhere in Cumbria.

The TARDIS.


End file.
